Monday, December 23, 2013

For the last 11 years, Four Roses has been rebuilding their
image and slowly but surely returning the brand to its former glory. Their
standard lineup of the Yellow Label, Small Batch and Single Barrel provide a
core of consistent quality and value. But it’s their Limited Edition releases
that have been receiving most of the accolades and continue to propel their
reputation to new heights.

I recounted the history of Four Roses a few years ago when I
posted about their Single Barrel offering, and followed that up with a post
about the Yellow Label where I discussed how the distillery’s single story
warehouses largely eliminate barrel location as a variable in the bourbon’s
flavor.

But with ten unique recipes (five different yeast strains
applied across two different mash bills), Master Distiller Jim Rutledge has the
ability to create a massive range of flavor profiles. The potential at his disposal
had been realized through their annual Limited Edition bottlings.

Each of the ten recipes is identified by a four letter code,
but only two of those letters describe the makeup of the recipe. The first
letter is always O, which designates the bourbon as having been made at the
Four Roses Distillery (I assume these codes date back to when the distillery
operated under its previous name, Old Prentice). The third letter is always S,
which designates the distillate as “straight”, meaning it came off the still at
80% abv or less (all Four Roses whiskey is “straight” these days, but under
Seagram’s ownership there would have been plenty of whiskey floating around
which didn’t qualify for the “straight” designation, making this a more
relevant bit of information).

The second letter identifies the mash bill. It will either
be E (75% corn, 20% rye, 5% malted barley) or B (60% corn, 35% rye, 5% malted
barley). Recipes with a higher percentage of corn will typically produce a
sweeter bourbon, while those with a higher percentage of rye will usually
result in a bourbon showing more of that grain’s unique spicy character.

The 80 proof Yellow Label, which was reintroduced to the U.S. market in
2002, uses as many as all ten recipes and though it carries no age statement,
it’s said to be in the 5 to 6 year range.

The 100 proof Single Barrel, which debuted in 2004, has
always come from the same recipe; OBSV. The labels are marked with the warehouse
number and barrel number. Again, there is no age statement, but they target an
age of at least 8 years.

The 90 proof Small Batch, introduced in 2006, combines four
recipes; OBSO, OBSK, OESO and OESK (so two different yeast stains with each of
the two mash bills). Like its siblings it lacks an age statement, but it is
usually at least 7 years old.

In the spring of 2007 Four Roses began expanding their
distribution to areas beyond Kentucky.
New York City was first, and they have gradually
been spreading across the U.S.
since then.

In the fall of 2007, the first Single Barrel Limited Edition
release appeared as a tribute to Jim Rutledge’s 40 years in the industry. It
has continued as an annual release, but over the years the timing has been
shifted back to the spring to coincide with the Kentucky Derby. The whisky is
bottled at barrel proof after being aged substantially longer than the 100
proof Single Barrel bottling. The size of the release has ranged from less than
1500 bottles in the first year to about 4000 bottles this year. A barrel will
yield roughly 200 bottles at full strength, and with the alcohol level varying
quite a bit from barrel to barrel, any given year will see bottles ranging from
roughly 100 proof to 115 proof. I’ve put together a list of the recipes and
ages of the Single Barrel LE releases over the years:

2007 Single Barrel Limited Edition, OESO, 13½ years

2008 Single Barrel Limited Edition, OBSK, 12 years

2009 Single Barrel Limited Edition, OESQ, 11 years

2010 Single Barrel Limited Edition, OBSV, 17 years

2011 Single Barrel Limited Edition, OBSQ, 12 years

2012 Single Barrel Limited Edition, OESK, 12 years

2013 Single Barrel Limited Edition, OBSK, 13 years

2008 saw the addition of a second annual Limited Edition
release. For the first two years it was called the Marriage Collection, and
then in 2010 its name was changed to Small Batch Limited Edition. Always a fall
release, its arrival is timed to coincide with the Kentucky Bourbon Festival. Each
year two to four recipes will be married together (although the proportions of
each recipe are not typically revealed) to create a barrel proof offering which
is aged quite a bit further then the standard Small Batch. Since all of the
barrels for a given year’s release are vatted together they do have consistent
proofs, unlike the Single Barrel LE. The release size grew gradually from about
2500 bottles initially to over 4000 bottles in 2012. Then, in 2013, the number
grew dramatically to over 12,000. I’m sure they wanted there to be plenty to go
around as this bottling was commemorating the 125th anniversary of
the brand, but it was also the first Limited Edition release to see
distribution in Europe. I’ve compiled all of
the recipes, ages and proofs below:

2008 Marriage Collection OBSV-13 years,
OESK-10 years, 55.7%

2009 Marriage Collection OBSK-10 years,
OBSK-19 years, OESO-10 years, 54.8%

2010 Small Batch Limited Edition OBSV-15 years, OBSK-11 years, OESK-10 years,
55.1%

2011 Small Batch Limited Edition OBSK-13 years,
OESK-11 years, OESV-12 years, OESQ-13 years, 55.1%

2012 Small Batch Limited Edition OBSV-11 years, OBSV-17 years, OBSK-12 years,
OESK-12 years, 55.7%

2013 Small Batch Limited Edition OBSV-18 years, OBSK-13 years, OESK-13 years,
51.6%

Sorry if that was an overload of technical information, but
I’m sure some will find it interesting. Tonight I’ll be dusting off my Small
Batch 2010 LE bottle and comparing it to the standard Small Batch Four Roses.
Both bottlings see a contribution from each of the two mash bills, and they
both have two components made with the K yeast (spicy), but the 2010 LE also
uses the V yeast (delicate fruitiness) instead of the O yeast (rich fruitiness)
used in the standard Small Batch. The higher proof and greater age of the
Limited Edition will make a big difference, but it’s really hard to predict how
these will taste without knowing the percentages of the various recipes used in
each vatting.

Small Batch:The color is a medium brownish-amber.The nose is somewhat restrained with a subtle clay-like earthiness
and complex spice notes.On the palate there is just a hint of sweetness up front
which quickly gives way to a dry earthiness and layered spiciness.

As it moves into the finish, red-hot cinnamon spice notes
come to dominate. The flavors evolve and fade while the heat stays somewhat constant
further into the finish.

It is certainly spice driven and full of character, but
overall very drinkable.

Small Batch 2010 LE:

The color, which is the same as above but a few shades
darker, is what one would expect given the elevated age and proof.The nose is also subdued, but the higher alcohol level is
noticeable. The aromas are a little more brooding, with clay, leather and
cinnamon showing.

On the palate it is bigger and bolder right off the bat and
throughout. It’s drier up front, with a hint of middle-eastern spices joining
in. While the red-hot cinnamon spice notes emerge as it enters the finish here
as well, they aren’t as dominant. Bright fruitiness (in spite of what one would
expect from the yeasts being used) and bold oak flavors add complexity and balance.
It is also very drinkable, in spite of its elevated proof.

The only other Limited Edition Four Roses I have tasted was
the 2012 Single Barrel; it was phenomenal, and from the reviews that I have
read, the LE releases seem to be getting better year after year. Both of the
bourbons that I tasted tonight are very good, but I would give an edge to the
Limited Edition. That being said and looking at the prices, I would say that
the standard Small Batch is a better value. The $65 price listed above is what
I paid a few years ago; the current Limited Edition releases are usually priced
in the $80 to $85 range.

Monday, December 2, 2013

It’s easy to become enamored with the single malts of the
Scottish islands; many of them seem to have an almost magical allure. Islay, with its eight distilleries, commands most of the attention
and recognition. As for Scotland’s
six distilleries located on other islands, picking the most inconspicuous of
the lot would be a tossup between Tobermory and Scapa (there’s actually a seventh,
but Abhainn Dearg is so new that I’m not taking it into consideration).

But taking the obscurity a step further would be Ledaig
(pronounced led-chig), the peated variant of Tobermory. From the first time I
heard about Ledaig I became mildly obsessed with learning more about this
mysterious malt. I’m grateful that my curiosity led me to see the distillery in
person; my visit to the Isle of Mull was truly a highlight of the time I spent
in Scotland.

I wrote about my first encounter with a bottle of Ledaig
almost two years ago. That 16 year old bottling from Gordon & MacPhail, which
was distilled in 1990, was far less heavily peated than I was expecting. I wrote
briefly about the history of the Tobermory distillery in that post, but I have
learned a great deal since then. Tasting notes for the 10 year Tobermory and 15year Tobermory can be found on the posts written during my visit to Mull. A more comprehensive overview of the distillery’s
history will provide a fitting lead-up to a tasting of the current 10 year
Ledaig.

The town of Tobermory was
established on the northeastern coast of Mull
as a fishing port in 1788 by the British Fisheries Society, in part because of
its superior natural harbor. The village located on that harbor prior to 1788
was named Ledaig, which translates from Gaelic as “safe haven”.

Ten years later, in 1798, a local merchant named John
Sinclair established the Ledaig distillery in the town of Tobermory. Some confusion has been caused by
the fact that he was initially only given permission to build a brewery and a
year later he got the okay for his planned distillery. But as far as I can tell
the sight never operated as a brewery.

The Excise Act of 1823 set reasonable fees and tax rates on
distillers with the goal of curbing illicit operations. That was in that year
in which Ledaig was granted a license, and why we see both 1798 and 1823 on the
bottles as the “established” date. The company seems to have embraced the
earlier date in recent years, and only 1798 shows up on all of the newer
labels.

The distillery closed in 1837 for reasons that have been
lost to history. That closure would last more than 40 years, and maps from the
1860’s show that the site was being used as a saw mill. Finally, in 1878, distillation
resumed there.

Seven years later, in 1885, Alfred Barnard toured the
distillery, giving us a detailed record of the operation. By this time the
distillery was named Tobermory, although it is unclear when the change from
Ledaig took place. Barnard notes that raw barley was shipped to Mull by steamers from the mainland, and was then malted
at the distillery and dried in a kiln fueled by peat from a nearby estate. He
also describes the two water wheels that powered most of the distillery, as
well as the boiler that produced steam to heat the mash water and drive a five
horsepower engine which ran the pumps necessary to move liquids against
gravity.

But the biggest surprise in Barnard’s description is that
the Spirit Still was heated by steam while the Wash Still was heated by fire
(he doesn’t note if the fuel was peat or coal). I believe steam heated pot
stills were quite rare at the time. Glenmorangie was the first to use pot
stills with internal steam coils when the distillery was rebuilt in 1888-1889,
but no one else followed that lead until the late 1950’s. Scapa, which was
newly built in 1885, had stills heated by steam jacketing, which was apparently
quite unusual at the time. Barnard doesn’t give further detail, but I am
assuming that jacketing was the method used on the Spirit Still at Tobermory.

The distillery closed again in 1930. This time it was likely
the result of decreased demand after 10 years of Prohibition in the U.S. In the
ensuing years the buildings were used as a power plant and then as a canteen
for marines stationed at a nearby naval base during World War II.

This second closure lasted more than 40 years until the
distillery re-opened under new ownership in 1972. Unfortunately the owners went
bankrupt in 1975 and operations ceased again. Even though the distillery name was
changed back to Ledaig during this brief period, many casks were still labeled as
Tobermory but almost all of the whisky was peated to around 40 ppm.

Whisky making resumed with another new owner in 1979. This
is when the distillery began to make two separate styles of whisky; peated
Ledaig and unpeated Tobermory. Extra money was brought in by renting some of
the buildings for cheese storage and selling off the only warehouse for
development into apartments. But that wasn’t enough to keep the distillery from
closing again in the early 1980’s (I’ve seen closure dates ranging from 1981 to
1985, but I came across a listing for a Ledaig distilled in 1983, so they must
have made it at least that far).

Production resumed once again in 1989, but it’s not clear if
that involved a change of ownership. From 1979 through 1993 the peat levels of
Ledaig were very inconsistent, but overall much lower than they had been in the
early 1970’s, probably around 15 ppm. I could find no information as to whether
or not the traditional floor maltings were used during this period. If they had
been, that practice would have ended by 1993, when the distillery was purchased
by Burn Stewart.

With the latest owner came a period of stability which is
still being enjoyed 20 years later. By the mid 90’s, the peat level of Ledaig
had been raised to 37 ppm. Burn Stewart has owned the Deanston distillery since
1991 and used the extra warehouse space there to mature Tobermory and Ledaig
casks. In 2003 the company acquired the Bunnahabhain distillery on Islay, giving them access to more underutilized warehouse
capacity. In 2007 a micro-warehouse was built in the Tobermory distillery
complex, allowing an aging experiment to be carried out. A batch of Ledaig was
distilled and 1/3 of it was stored at each of the three distilleries. Samples
from each site will be analyzed as they approach 10 years of age to determine
the different influences of each site. During my tour, I was told that most of
the Tobermory/Ledaig production is now aged at Bunnahabhain. This makes a great
deal of sense; if it can’t be warehoused on Mull,
it should at least age in a coastal location.

In 2010, Burn Stewart made the move of eliminating chill
filtering and caramel coloring across the board for all of their single malts.
The abv was raised to 46.3% at the same time. I know this provided a huge
improvement for Bunnahabhain, and I suspect that it did for Tobermory and
Ledaig as well.

Also of interesting note is that when Bunnahabhain was
acquired, the Black Bottle brand of blended scotch came with it. Formerly
composed of all seven single malts from Islay,
it now has Tobermory and Ledaig in the mix as well.

Burn Stewart was purchased in 2002 by CL Financial of Trinidad who had a major liquidity crisis in 2009.
Fortunately, Burn Stewart was sold on to a South African beverage company named
Distell earlier this year, ensuring future stability.

Ledaig 10 year:It is pale straw in color, with a fresh nose of hearty peat
smoke mixed with fields of hay and a gentle floral aspect.The mouthfeel is oily, and it attacks with bold peat up front.
An intense campfire comes to life on the mid-palate and then it slowly backs
down allowing other flavors emerge. Grassy, floral, nutty and vanilla notes
come together providing good complexity before it fades gracefully though the
finish.

It’s well composed throughout and has just the right combination of
youthful exuberance and aged refinement. The flavor profile lies somewhere
between those of Laphroaig and Ardbeg (or perhaps closer to a vatting of the
two).

I’m revisiting the 16 year Gordon & MacPhail Ledaig as
well as the 10 year Tobermory for comparison sake. I wouldn’t say that the 16
year is bad, but it’s just not peaty enough and/or too floral (and in that
perfumed way that I really have an aversion to). It is simply not in the same
league as 10 year Ledaig. The 10 year Tobermory is very well made and does have
a nice minty spice aspect and maltiness which balance the floral notes. For my
personal preferences I view it is a good starting point, from which something
really special happens when you add the peat level of Ledaig or the full sherry
cask maturation of 15 year Tobermory. Perhaps some day the distillery will
treat us to a Ledaig bottling that has been matured exclusively in sherry
casks.

Keeping secrets isn’t easy. That basic fact has never been
truer as we now find ourselves firmly entrenched in the age of electronic
information. While no one in the business world wants the cat to be let out of the
bag prior to the official announcement of a new product, the United States
government has made that task nearly impossible for the spirits industry.

Regulations require every bottle of alcohol (beer, wine and distilled
spirits) sold in the U. S.
to have a label which has been approved by the TTB (the Alcohol and Tobacco Tax
and Trade Bureau, an offshoot of the ATF which was formed in 2003). That authorization
comes in the form of a COLA (Certificate Of Label Approval).

Most companies wisely try to submit the paperwork for a COLA
well in advance of their new product’s release. This provides a time buffer if
the label is rejected for some reason (or if work grinds to a halt at the TTB
for weeks on end due to a government shutdown), avoiding the situation of having
product sitting in a warehouse, unable to be shipped for a lack of legal
labels.

However, once that application gets the green light the COLA
information is published online for the world to see, label images and all, by
the TTB. I can’t speak for beer geeks and wine aficionados, but trolling the
TTB website for a preview of new products long before they are officially
announced has become a popular pastime for whiskey enthusiasts.

The site doesn’t provide an index of approved label filings,
but they’re not too hard to dig up. While a search function is available on the
TTB website, I found it to be a bit cumbersome and actually had better luck
working with a Google site search using a variety of key words.

Buffalo Trace sent out a flurry of press releases late in
July to let the world know about their new Stagg Jr. bourbon, which would start
to appear on store shelves by mid August. For anyone spending a decent amount
of time on popular bourbon discussion forums, that was old news. The COLA application,
which was submitted on December 20th, 2012, was approved and posted online on January 18th. Within three days the forums were buzzing
with speculation about this upcoming product.

A label application is of course no guarantee that the
product will ever see the light of day, and much of the information can be
changed after approval has been granted. In the case of Stagg Jr., it was
labeled as a barrel proof bourbon but carried a 100 proof rating. This was just
a place holder, as the proof of the first batch (which ended up being 134.4)
was unknown at the time the application was submitted. Buffalo Trace does plan
to release several batches per year, and the proof of subsequent batches is
expected to vary from that of the original.

About a month ago I spotted a bottle of the new Stagg Jr.
sitting on the shelf at a local bar, not far from their bottle of 2012 George
T. Stagg. I gave them a quick comparison, forming somewhat of a negative
impression of the Jr., while noting that the newer vintage of the Sr. differed
quite a bit from the 2009 bottling I had at home.

Then, about a week ago, I was at the same bar scrutinizing
their bottle of Eagle Rare 17 Year for my last post when I noticed that it was
from the 2013 release. Then I spotted a full bottle of George T. Stagg behind
the opened one and began to suspect that it too was from the 2013 release. What
a perfect opportunity to try Jr. against two different vintages of the
original. This was especially interesting because the proof of the 2013 George
T. Stagg has dropped below 130, where the last eight releases were all over 140
proof.

The premise here is that Stagg Jr. is being offered as a
younger, less expensive and more readily available (but still barrel proof and
unfiltered) variant of the legendary George T. Stagg. But none of the Stagg
bottlings carry an age statement. Well, the back label of the Stagg Jr. bottle
mentions that it “ages for nearly a decade”. But that is not an official age
statement, so it is somewhat meaningless. All we can do is refer to (and trust)
the press releases and technical data sheets that come from Buffalo Trace.According to the press releases that I’ve seen, Stagg Jr. is
a marriage of barrels aged for eight years and nine years. Thus far only one
batch has been released though. The age of the whiskey used in future batches
could change, and if it does it would be up to Buffalo Trace to reveal that
information.As for the George T. Stagg, they do put out information
sheets for each annual release with a pretty impressive level of detail. They
show that the 2012 vintage was aged to 16 years and 9 months, and the 2013
vintage was aged to 15 years and 11 months. The 2009 vintage, which I’ll get
into later, was aged to 16 years and 7 months.

Another thing that stands out while looking at the data is
the loss due to evaporation. In 2012 it was 53.69% and in 2013 it was 73.34%.
So even though the 2012 batch was comprised of 118 barrels and the 2013 batch
of 157 barrels, there was actually 23.4% less George T. Stagg bottled this year
compared to the one previous. This really highlights just how much of a
variable the warehouses (and locations within them) can be.

2012 George T. Stagg (142.8 proof)The nose is full and spicy, but doesn’t let on to how high
the proof is.

It has complexity in the sense that it evolves quite a bit
from start to finish but at the same time it does kind of lack depth at any
given point. On the palate it is viscous and intense, with the heat battling
the flavors for dominance. The spice notes get quite hot (red hot cinnamon
spice) as it moves into the finish. While the spice notes are enjoyable and
interesting, they are definitely the driving force here. The whisky would
benefit from a broader spectrum of flavors adding to the spice.

2013 George T. Stagg (128.2 proof)

The nose is far more restrained than that of the 2012; I
expected less with the lower proof, but not this much less.

It’s big and chewy in the mouth. The palate is full of spice
and has plenty of backbone, but everything is very well integrated. While primarily
spice driven, it still shows good complexity with sweet caramel, leather and
subtle dark fruit. Transitioning smoothly into the long finish, it picks up
steam and evolves nicely. “Elegant” seems like a strange word to describe this
whiskey, but I find it appropriate relative to the 2012 and the Jr.

Stagg Jr. (134.4 proof)

Again, the nose has some weight to it but is not as severe
as expected.

This one definitely has the sharpest horns of the three, but
doesn’t seem to be nearly as harsh as the first time I tasted it (about a month
ago, same bottle), maybe tasting its older brothers first softened my palate
this time around. There’s plenty of heat, but more from the alcohol burn than the
spice notes. I might not have picked it out, but I definitely agree with the
dark cherry flavors other reviewers have noted. It is a little unrefined and
edgy, but really not as bad as some of its early reviews (or my initial
impression). It’s kind of the inverse of the 2012 Stagg, in that it has more depth
throughout, but it really doesn’t evolve from start to finish.

2009 George T. Stagg (141.4 proof)

When I got home from the bar I sampled this bottle, which I
originally posted about a few years ago. It has a nose that opens the eyes in
the same way that smelling salts do, as I would have expected from the other
three. Big and brash on the palate, you could even go so far as saying a little
rough around the edges. A lot of great flavor (leather, pencil shavings and
oak) battles with some intense heat. While not as spice driven as the other two
vintages, the spice that does come to the fore on the finish is of the Cedar
variety. It really seems to come into its own late in the game. This is a
highly regarded vintage by many, but I would personally rate it somewhere
between the 2012 and the 2013 releases. I like all three of them, but they do
vary quite a bit in style.

I have a huge aversion to rating whiskeys on a 100 point
scale but I’m going to do it here because it’s the most direct way to express
how I feel about each of these offerings relative to the others.

2013 Stagg - 962009 Stagg - 922012 Stagg - 90Stagg Jr.- 86

Having the Stagg name on the bottle raises the bar quite
high for Jr. While not in the same league as its older siblings, I would say
that it is at least worth trying. Oh, and I almost forgot to throw in a thanks to the folks at Prohibition Pig for cracking open their 2013 Stagg so I could compare it to the 2012 and Jr.

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Many people who know me recognize that fact that I’m a
fairly valuable whiskey resource. I’m always happy to share my insight and opinions,
but I’m also quick to admit my limitations if the subject at hand goes beyond
my realm of knowledge. When it comes to whiskey advice, you’ll either get an
honest answer out of me or no answer at all.

I’ll occasionally get calls or texts from friends who are
seeking recommendations while they’re shopping for whiskey. I’ve also had the privilege
of making the single malt selections for the whisky lists of some very highly
regarded restaurants, along with being asked to conduct whisky training sessions
for their staff members.

From time to time I also get emails from Food & Beverage
industry acquaintances seeking my opinion of the bottlings that are currently
available to them. While I’m always honored by these requests, they can be
quite time consuming as I’m not one to skimp on the details.

One such seeker of advise emailed me regarding a rather
poorly written piece from the Wall Street Journal which highlighted the scarcity
of Pappy Van Winkle 23 Year and went on to mention several other bourbons that
were supposed to be almost as eagerly sought after.

Oddly, they mentioned Eagle Rare but made no differentiation
between the Single Barrel 10 Year, which is commonly available at a reasonable
price, and the 17 Year which is a more expensive, limited release from the
Buffalo Trace Antique Collection. Of the five bottlings from that collection,
the Eagle Rare 17 is arguably the least coveted. You’d think they would have
mentioned George T. Stagg, the most fervently collected bottling from the group,
as well as some of the highly acclaimed, limited edition releases put out by
Heaven Hill and Four Roses.

After explaining all of that in my response, I went on to
note that I did have a bottle of each of the two Eagle Rare offerings tucked
away on the back of my whiskey shelf. It’s taken nearly eight months, but those
two bottles have finally ventured out for a proper evaluation.

I knew some years had passed since their purchase, but even
I was surprised to see the “bottled” date of Fall 2005 on the label of the 17
Year. I don’t see any bottling codes or other indication of vintage on the 10
Year bottle, but my foggy memory give me the sense that I picked it up a year
of two after the 17.

While scrutinizing the bottles I noticed that they were both
labeled as being distilled, aged & bottled by Old Prentice (one says
company, the other says distillery), Frankfort, KY. That seemed odd; I know
these are both Buffalo Trace products. A few hours of investigating ensued,
revealing some interesting history.

The Seagram Company introduced Eagle Rare as a bourbon brand
in 1975. Bottled with a 10 year age statement at 101 proof, it was positioned as a
direct competitor to Wild Turkey. Eagle Rare was produced at what had formerly been named the Old Prentice Distillery, in Lawrenceburg, KY. That distillery was built in 1910 and kept its original name until it was purchased by Seagrams in 1943 and renamed as the Joseph E. Seagram & Sons Distillery. In 1986 it was finally renamed as The Four Roses Distillery, in honor of the
bourbon that had been produced there for many decades.

Then, in 1989, the Eagle Rare brand and the Old Prentice
name were sold to the Sazerac Company. At the time of the Eagle Rare acquisition, Sazerac was
sourcing the majority of their whisky from Heaven Hill. The most likely
scenario is that Heaven Hill bourbon was used for Eagle Rare for the next three
years, until Sazerac purchased the Buffalo Trace Distillery in 1992.

The Old Prentice name has always appeared on the Eagle Rare
labels, and it still does on the most current bottling. But the stated location
has changed a few times. Originally it was Lawrenceburg, KY,
which was where the whisky was being distilled. Then in 1989 it changed to New Orleans, LA.
Even though the whiskey was probably coming from Heaven Hill, the Sazerac
headquarters were located in New
Orleans so they could legally list that location on
the label. In spite of the fact that the source of Eagle Rare likely changed to
Buffalo Trace in 1992 the location on the label wasn’t updated to Frankfurt, KY
(where the Buffalo Trace Distillery is located) until some time in the late
1990’s.

The lineage is a little hard to follow, but the important
lesson here is that whiskey companies have some flexibility in regards to the
locations they are allowed to put on their labels, and that location isn’t
always indicative of the whiskey’s source.

I’m sure the flavor profile of the Eagle Rare 101 must have
changed noticeably as it was coming from different distilleries over the years,
but it wasn’t until 2000 that two new expressions of the brand were introduced.
Eagle Rare 17 Year was part of the inaugural release of Buffalo Trace’s Antique
Collection, of which it has been a part ever since. At the same time the Single
Barrel 10 Year was brought out, although with limited distribution. I also came
across a few references to an Eagle Rare15 Year, but couldn’t really find any
information about it aside from the fact that it was an export-only bottling,

Finally, in 2005 the original 10 Year, 101 proof Eagle Rare
was discontinued while the newer Single Barrel, 10 Year, 90 proof Eagle Rare
saw nationwide distribution. When I bought my bottles they were priced around
$50 and $22. The prices I have listed up top are current suggested retail, but
Antique Collection bottlings are prone to price gouging in some markets. As far
as I know the 10 Year is the least expensive single barrel bourbon currently
available.

As long as I’ve been in possession of these bottles, I don’t
think I’ve ever tasted them side by side. Now I’m really curious to see how
they compare.

10 Year:The nose is somewhat restrained, with a dry, dusty nature
and gentle oaky aromas.It is medium bodied, and brings more sweetness to the palate
than the nose would suggest.Butterscotch comes to the fore up front, and then the
whiskey quickly passes through an oaky/earthy transition to the spicy finish.
While it is primarily a red-hot-candy cinnamon spiciness, there is a slightly
bitter edge, reminiscent of green pepper.

17 Year:The nose is pronounced but not overly assertive, with notes
of clay, leather and dried corn coming through.Sublime was the first word that came to mind when I tasted
it. It’s certainly not meek, but still very smooth and well-integrated. The
mouthfeel is thick and weighty. It opens with sweet caramel and vanilla. Then
leather, oak and subtle fruit rise up on a wave of ethanol. But everything it
shows up front is short lived compared to the mint and teaberry laced spiciness
that takes over on the lengthy finish.

This whiskey’s biggest attribute is its ability to
transition through a range of flavors seamlessly from start to finish

I did stop into a local watering hole last night to examine
the most recent release (2013) of the Eagle Rare 17. I really just wanted to
see if “Old Prentice” was still on the label (which it was), but since the
bartender had to climb a library ladder to get the bottle, I thought it would
be rude to not have her pour at least an ounce of it for me. Take this with a
grain of salt since I tasted them 24 hours apart, but according to my notes: more robust than the 05, with more intense
spice notes, but less dissimilar than expected.

I definitely like both of these Eagle Rare expressions. The
10 Year is more boisterous, and the 17 Year (both of the vintages I tasted)
shows a great deal of refinement. That being said, I think this is a rare
example of price being commensurate with quality. Obviously, as a single barrel
product the 10 Year won’t b entirely consistent – I’d love to see some sort of
barrel identification marked on each bottle.

Thursday, October 31, 2013

I found myself laughing at the width of the roads here in
the U.S. every time I drove
for the first week or two after returning from Scotland. I had become so
accustomed to the narrow roadways of the U.K. that when I got behind the
wheel for the first time back home, it felt as if I was sailing along an ocean
of asphalt.

When the trip was still in its planning stages, I consulted about
driving over there with a good friend who had lived in England during
the early years of his childhood and went back occasionally to visit relatives.
He recounted the story of renting a car with an automatic transmission, as that
was all his wife could drive. Since the vast majority of cars in Europe are standards (the complete opposite of how it is
in the States), getting an automatic limits your choice to larger, luxury
models. To emphasize how undesirable such a car would be, he mentioned something
about driving down a road so narrow that both of the side mirrors were dragging
along the hedgerows lining the street at the same time. He also allayed my fears
that the layout of the pedals might be in the reverse order of what we drive
here.

So, small and manual it would be. No concerns there; that
describes what I’d been driving for the previous five years. I knew that
shifting with my left hand would be a challenge, but at least I’m left-handed,
so there is a little more coordination on that side. Aside from that, I just
needed to remember to stay on the left side of the road.

Long before the trip began, it was decided that I would do
all of the driving and my father would serve as co-pilot. “Keep dad against the
curb, keep dad against the curb” was the mantra that I continuously repeated in
my head as we drove along, ensuring that I stayed on the proper side of the
road.

Not long after leaving the airport in Glasgow, you’re bound to encounter a
roundabout. I’m no stranger to such road features, but driving around one in a
clockwise direction for the first time proved quite unnerving. And with less
than a foot of extra space on each side of the car in most places, the driver’s
undivided attention is required at all times. In practice that’s probably safer
than the ridiculously wide roads I’m used to driving on, which allow for all
manner of distraction. Once I settled in, I truly did enjoy driving in Scotland,
especially on the single track roads that snaked around the Isle of Mull.

I was surprised by a number of unexpected little differences
though. I nearly grabbed the door handle more times than I’d care to admit
while trying to shift. Every time I wanted to look in the rear view mirror I
found myself gazing off to the right at…..well, nothing. My right hand also
spent a good deal of time waving around in the center of the car in search of
my seatbelt. And more often than not, leading up to a departure either my
father or I would approach the wrong side of the car. This turned into somewhat
of a Laurel & Hardy-esque routine; “tired of driving Mike? Ready to be the
passenger?” or “Oh, did you feel like driving this time around, dad?” would
come from one of us each time the other made the mistake.

As you can clearly see in the picture above, I’m standing
next to the passenger side of the car, proudly displaying my newly acquired
miniature of Cask Strength Laphroaig 10 Year. Just after that photo was taken
was the only time that I actually got in the car, closed the door, and then
came to the realization that there was no steering wheel in front of me. That
picture will always bring a smile to my face.

Prior to the 2004 introduction of Laphroaig Quarter Cask,
the Cask Strength 10 Year was the only non-chill filtered whisky in Laphroaig’s
standard lineup. In 2009 they phased out the 15 Year and replaced it with the
18 Year which is non-chill filtered, leaving the flagship 10 Year (bottled at
40% or 43% abv, depending on where it’s being sold) as the only Laphroaig bottling
to undergo that process. It’s nice to see a whisky company moving in the right
direction.

The Cask Strength miniature that I picked up at the
distillery is a bottling that was produced from 2004 through 2008, at 55.7%
abv. Earlier bottlings were at 57.3% abv and had a green strip across the label
rather than the red stripe seen on version I have. From 2009 onward the Cask
Strength Laphroaig has been released in annual, numbered batches, where the
proof changes from batch to batch (there is some inconsistency in the system,
but that’s the topic of another post).

I thought it would be interesting to compare the Cask
Strength 10 Year and the 18 Year since they are basically the opposite ends of
the spectrum of the standard Laphroaig lineup. I do have some Quarter Cask on
hand for reference as well.

18 Year:It is light-to-medium golden amber in color.Pungent peat smoke with iodine and a hint of sea spray come
through on the nose but with a relatively refined manner.As expected, the body is thick and oily. The medicinal peat,
slightly sweet vanilla and brine notes are all beautifully woven together. The
well-integrated, complex flavors move seamlessly into the wonderfully long
finish. Eighteen years in cask has barely tamed the beast; this is still very
much a robust, masculine whisky.

Cask Strength 10 Year:The color is notable darker than the 18, more of a medium
amber.On the nose, the pungent peat smoke is accompanied by a
vegetal earthiness in this case. The aromas are a little more concentrated than
the 18 Year, but not as unruly as I was expecting them to be.It’s even more viscous on the tongue than the 18, and it has
more intensity across the board on the palate. But the flavor profile is quite
different too; it has more of a nutty / woody character (rather than the
luscious vanilla) joining the pungent, fiery peat notes. The vigorous intensity
pulls through to the finish, carrying it along noticeably further than that of
the 18 Year, which is by no means short of length.

I originally wrote about Laphroaig Quarter Cask in April of
2007 (the 2011 date is when I moved the older posts to the current format). As
odd as my early writings seem to me now, I still feel essentially the same way
about the Quarter Cask. I’m truly enjoying all three of these Laphroaig
expressions; the 18 Year has a wonderful elegance and the Cask Strength shows
its unbridled vigor, but the Quarter Cask is still my favorite. It’s
beautifully balanced and wonderfully complex, with bold waves of flavor that
keep crashing down on the palate, one after another.

Saturday, October 26, 2013

I’ve been feeling somewhat conflicted about this post for
the past few days. Forty Creek Barrel Select is a whisky that I really like and
some unique methods are employed in its production. But the distiller has made
some statements while describing his whisky making process that I’ve taken
exception to. The issue at hand is important and I feel the need to discuss it,
I just don’t want to focus too much one small negative aspect of an innovative
distiller who’s creating great whisky.

So, we’ll start by taking a look at what makes Forty Creek
Barrel Select special. After spending 22 years as a winemaker, John Hall wanted
to do something different and expanded into producing spirits when he purchased
the Kittling Ridge Distillery in 1992. Over the last 20 years whisky has become
his main focus. This fact was emphasized last year when he changed the name of
the distillery to Forty Creek, making it eponymous with his whisky brand.

The vast majority of modern whiskies are made with either distiller’s
yeast or brewer’s yeast (or some combination of the two). Bringing his
winemaking background into play, John Hall has chosen to ferment with wine
yeast, taking advantage of the unique qualities it adds to his whisky.

Aside from malt whisky (which is made solely from malted
barley) most modern whiskies are made from a mixture of grains, which are
typically combined prior to mashing and fermentation. But at Forty Creek the
three grains used (corn, rye and malted barley) are kept separate and made into
individual whiskies, which are later blended together. This emulates the
standard practice of the wine industry, where different grape varietals are
made into individual wines before being blended together (if the grapes are
mixed together prior to fermentation, the wine will be labeled as a “field
blend”).

Continuing to follow the winemaking tradition, each of the
three base whiskies at Forty Creek are aged separately as well. In order to accentuate
the individual qualities of the different grains, the whisky from each one is
aged in a different type of oak barrel: lightly charred for the rye, medium charred
for the barley, and heavily charred for the corn. After 6 to 10 years in these
barrels, the whiskies are finally blended together before being aged for a
further 6 months in sherry casks.

The actual distillation process carried out at Forty Creek
is also somewhat unique, but this is where I have a bit of an issue. While
discussing his still setup, Mr. Hall essentially makes a blanket statement that
whisky made in column stills is inferior to whisky made in pot stills. He also
insinuates that because his whisky is made in a single pot still distillation
that it is superior to double or triple pot-distilled whiskies.

A lot of people around the world have romantic notions of
pot stills and a corresponding bias against spirits produced in column stills.
While perhaps not completely baseless, these feelings are for the most part
unreasonable.

Pot stills are easy to understand. Liquid with a low level
of alcohol (wash) is added to the vessel and then heat is applied to its base.
The more volatile components of the liquid (mostly alcohol) turn to vapor, rise
up and escape through a tube connected to the top of the still. These vapors
then move into a condenser where they are cooled and turn back to liquid. The
process is usually repeated once or twice more to achieve the desired concentration
of alcohol.

The way in which a column still works isn’t so obvious. A
tall cylinder has a series of metal plates inside, spaced out from top to
bottom. These plates are riddled with small holes, allowing the passage of
liquid and vapor. Alcoholic liquid enters the column from the top and steam is
pumped in at the base. As the liquid moves down and the steam moves up, the
liquid is heated causing the alcohol to evaporate out of it. At the same time
most of the steam will re-condense back into water. The mostly alcoholic vapor
flows out of the top of the column and into a condenser where it is cooled,
becoming a liquid again. The waste liquid (mostly water) is drained out of the
bottom of the column. The perforated metal plates simply serve to spread out
the liquid and slow its movement as it descends inside the column, allowing the
steam to heat the liquid sufficiently. It is a little more complicated as the
diagram below shows, but that’s basically how a column still works.

In addition to the fact that it’s not easy to understand how
a column still works just by looking at one, their lowly reputation may be due
in part to appearances; they resemble the type of industrial equipment that might
be used to make gasoline. But the real issue at hand is the degree to which the
spirit has been distilled. When the concentration of the alcohol coming out of
the still goes up, the character of the original ingredients that gets carried
through to the spirit diminishes.

Column stills are more efficient than pot still because they
function in a continuous process as opposed to a batch process. A pot still is
loaded with liquid, heated for a time to separate out the alcohol, then the
remaining liquid is emptied out and the cycle is repeated. With a column still,
as long as you keep feeding wash in at the top and steam at the base, it will
continue to produce spirit. The column still can also put out highly
concentrated spirit, above 95% abv (the legal maximum for whisky by most
definitions), whereas with pot stills it’s hard to get the abv much above 80%.

So yes, you can make bad whisky with a column still (and
plenty is). But that doesn’t mean whisky from a column still has to be bad. Let’s
look at some numbers. We’ll start with some pot still examples from Scotland:
doubled distilled Longrow comes off the still at 69% abv, two-and-a-half times
distilled Springbank at 71%, and triple distilled Hazelburn at 73%.
Auchentoshan, which is also triple distilled, comes out at 81%. A quick look at
the laws that regulate how Bourbon is made reveal that it must be distilled to
less than 80% abv. The vast majority of Bourbons are made in column stills, and
while few distillers publish the numbers, I suspect that many of the better
quality Bourbons are distilled to a lower number than the legal maximum of 80%
abv. The degree to which a column still concentrates alcohol is easily adjusted
by changing its internal configuration. There may be a little more to it, but I
believe that it’s mostly a matter of how many metal plates are used along with
the number and size of the holes in them.

Consider some of the top names in Bourbon: George T Stagg,
William Larue Weller, Pappy Van Winkle’s Family Reserve, The Parker Heritage
Collection, Four Roses Single Barrel Limited Edition releases. Those are some
serious whiskeys, all of top quality, and every one of them made in a column
still.

Conversely, it is possible to make bad whisky in a pot
still: low quality wort from high yielding strains of grain, short fermentation
times with fast acting yeast, and finally a quick distillation driven by high
heat. Pot stills are no guaranty of quality.

Of course there are some grey areas to consider too. The
first is a piece of distilling equipment known as a thumper (or a thump keg, or
a doubler). This is a closed vessel that, if used, sits between the still and
the condenser (the diagram shows on being used with a pot still, but they are
also used with column stills). It’s partially filled with water and the pipe
coming into it from the still will have its opening below the water line.
Another pipe goes from the top of the thumper to the condenser. The vapors
coming off of the still will cool a little as they bubble up through the liquid
in the thumper. That cooling causes some of the water in the vapor to
re-condense and stay in the thumper. The vapors that exit the thumper now have
less water than when they entered, so the alcohol has become more concentrated
before moving on to the condenser.

Even though it functions by cooling rather than heating,
some people consider the thumper to be a type of pot still. Nearly six years
ago Chuck Cowdery wrote a great post about a Bourbon that was claimed to be the
product of pot still distillation even though it was actually distilled in a
column used in conjunction with a thumper.

I’m basically on the same path as Chuck here. You see, the
main still that makes most of the wkisky at Forty Creek is a 6000 liter
combi-still (combination still or hybrid still). It is basically a pot still
base with a column still on top of it. Some of the wash starts in the pot, and
once it heats to the point where it starts to vaporize, more wash is fed into
the top of the column. The vapors move up through the column stripping alcohol
out of the wash that is coming down and at the same time losing some water
content along the way. The diagram below is just an example of this type of still.

John Hall has been somewhat of a pioneer in a Canadian
whisky industry that has been slow to innovate, and for that he deserves
credit. The spirit coming off of his still is at 65% abv; a sure sign of
quality distillate, and as I said above I really like this whisky. But I get a
bit rankled when I hear claims of the superiority of pot still whisky which
clearly infer inherent inadequacies in the output of column stills. I also think
it’s disingenuous to call the product of a combi-still a single pot still
whisky, and I find it revealing that every photo of the still on the Forty
Creek website either has the column cropped out or is taken from an angle that
makes it barely visible.

Okay, enough of my column still crusade, time for a glass of
whisky:

The nose is fairly complex, with subtle fruit and delicate
floral aromas, but it’s the butterscotch notes that seem to stand out above the
others.

While it doesn’t evolve dramatically on the palate from
start to finish, there is good complexity throughout and all of the flavors are
well integrated. Butterscotch, vanilla and spice notes are the most obvious
flavors, but stone fruit, nuttiness and a floral aspect are all present as
well.The warm, spicy finish is smooth and of reasonable length.

It’s refreshing to see a Canadian Whisky that breaks from
tradition. Next time I visit Montreal I may have
to take a detour through Ontario and see if I
can hunt down some of the Forty Creek bottlings that aren’t available in the U.S.